Rehan Qayoom Mir
Srinagar, Nov 15: When the thunderous Nowgam blast shattered Srinagar’s quiet night, 50-year-old Mohammad Shafi Parray—a father of three—was thought to be asleep at home. Instead, he was inside Nowgam Police Station, not as an accused or an officer, but as a tailor called in for a brief stitching job.
Shafi, a resident of the adjoining locality, was known across Nowgam for his modest tailoring shop along the Wanabal–Nowgam road, a small space where school students and shopkeepers often stopped to get their uniforms or trousers altered.
“He was honest and humble. Always busy, always smiling,” said a neighbour, standing outside his shuttered shop on Saturday morning.
According to neighbours, Shafi had visited the police station a day before, for some stitching work and returned home briefly.
On Friday night, he was again called for a similar task, but this time, he never made it back.
“He told us he would return in half an hour or so,” recalled his mother, her voice trembling. “We waited and waited. Then we heard the blast. Shafiyoo… Shafiyoo… kutei goukk (where did you go),” she wailed, as she remembered their last conversation.
Moments after the explosion, a fire engulfed the police station building. When rescuers reached the site, they found ‘charred debris’ and body parts among it, the remains of Shafi Parray.
The blast, which killed nine people including police officials, forensic experts and revenue officers, was described by police as “accidental.”
Officials said it occurred during the inspection of a cache of seized explosives, suspected to be ‘ammonium nitrate’ brought from Faridabad, Haryana earlier this month.
“The explosion happened during sampling of the seized material,” said DGP Nalin Prabhat, confirming the blast was accidental.
The explosion’s intensity shattered windows across Nowgam and sent debris flying hundreds of meters. Locals described scenes of panic and disbelief. “We saw smoke rising from the police station and heard cries for help. The sound was louder than anything we have ever heard,” said one resident who rushed to the spot minutes after the blast.
At Shafi’s home, grief hung heavy. His two sons and daughter sat quietly beside their mother as relatives and neighbours offered condolences. The verandah of their modest home had turned into a mourning space.
“He was a simple man earning a simple living,” said one of his relatives. “He had nothing to do with explosives or police work. He was just doing his job.”
As investigations continue into how a routine forensic process turned deadly, Shafi’s unfinished stitching job remains folded on his wooden table at “Parray Tailors” a silent reminder of a man who went to mend fabric and instead, lost his life to a blast that tore through the city’s calm. (KNO)
